English symphony
by quiller
Summary: After a rescue goes wrong, Penny invites Virgil to stay with her in England. Virgil often seems to get overshadowed by his brothers, so here he's got a story all to himself. - Complete story-.
1. Prelude

English symphony

Author's note: The events in this story take place 18 months after those of  _'Sight unseen'_ and contain spoilers for that story. Some readers may be surprised by what I have done with Penny in this story. I know a lot of writers link her to Jeff, but if Mouse can marry her off to John (nice one, Mouse!) then I feel free to do what I have done here.

Standard disclaimer. I acknowledge Carlton plc as the copyright holder of the Thunderbird characters and I would like to thank Gerry Anderson and his team for creating them. All biographical details and dates taken from Chris Bentley's 'Complete book of Thunderbirds'

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Prelude

Virgil glowered at the grey English landscape spread out before him. 'Go to England', they'd said. 'you'll feel different there'. Well, they were right about that. At home he had felt bored and frustrated. Here he felt bored, frustrated – and cold. He shivered as he wrapped the rug tighter around his legs. If this was what it was like in July, then he was glad he wasn't visiting in January. He glared again at the back end of the horse that was pulling the small cart he was sitting on (Lady Penelope had called it a 'dog-cart'), along the grassy lane. The horse seemed determined to eat its way across the countryside Virgil couldn't help reflecting that in the time it had taken the creature to go a mile, Thunderbird 2 could have covered half a continent. He wasn't at all sure he was even heading in the right direction - if he was in Thunderbird 2 his instruments could pinpoint any spot on the planet within six feet. As it was, he had to admit he was lost.

His reverie was interrupted by a stern voice. "You shouldn't let him do that, you know – it's very bad for him."

He turned in his seat with some difficulty to look at the speaker. An attractive young woman, of about his own age, with the fresh complexion that the English seemed to wear as a trademark, and wisps of tawny hair escaping from beneath a black riding hat, was approaching on horseback. He eyed her slim figure appreciatively and admired the expert way with which she controlled her horse. Virgil was no expert on horses, but even his untrained eye could see that putting her mount next to the animal pulling his cart was like placing Thunderbird 1 next to Alan's antique Tiger Moth.

"Sorry, ma'am" he replied, "he doesn't seem to be taking any notice of me. I guess I'm more used to horsepower than horses."

The young lady was obviously surprised to hear Virgil's accent. "Are you visiting near here?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm staying with Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward."

Her face broke into a smile. "Penny and I have been friends for years – we were at school together." She extended her hand "Amanda Leigh-Jones"

Virgil offered his hand. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I'm Virgil Tracy."

She looked at him, "Virgil as in the poet?"

"Poet?" he echoed.

"Latin poet. Wrote _The Aenead_"

Virgil shook his head. "Nothing so high-brow, I'm afraid. My father named me after one of America's early astronauts."

"Well," she replied, "that's an illustrious namesake if ever I heard one!" She looked at him again. "How long have you been in England?"

"Just a few days so far. But this afternoon Lady Penelope said she had some sort of meeting at her house, so she suggested I went out and got some fresh air." 

"Oh the committee meeting about the Parish fete and gymkhana! Yes, my sister-in-law has gone to that – they'll be hours yet." She looked at him closely, noting his pallor. "Why don't you come back with me for some tea – then you can go back to Penny's once the meeting is over. If you don't mind my saying so, you look in need of a hot drink"

The idea appealed to Virgil. He shivered slightly "I guess I'm just used to it being a bit warmer at home."

"And where is that?" queried Amanda.

"My family live on an island in the south Pacific."

"Wow! That sounds wonderful." Amanda looked around at the overcast skies. "I suppose this all looks a bit drab in comparison." Taking the reins of that pony trap from Virgil's cold fingers, she led the pony along the track, and after a short journey they stopped where a vista opened out before them.

"Here we are," said Amanda, "Denbigh Hall."

Virgil stared. He had always thought Lady Penelope's house was enormous, but this was a castle, with battlements and a drawbridge over a moat. "You live here?"

"No, I grew up here, but it belongs to my brother now. I've got a flat down on the south coast. I'm only visiting for a few days because I'm having my kitchen re-done and I can't stand the mess at home." She glanced at him, "It's not as old as it looks, you know. This is just a Victorian idea of what a castle should look like. The actual building is only about 200 years old, though of course there was an earlier house on the site."

Virgil smiled. 200 years old still sounded old to him.

Amanda led them round the back, into what was obviously a stable yard. She dismounted in one swift easy move. "We won't bother to unharness the horses – I'll just loosen the girth on Tiger Lily and put her in the loose box, and we'll put a blanket over your pony." She turned towards Virgil, and was surprised to see that when he pulled the rug away, that his right leg was encased for the whole length in a plaster cast. "Oh, I'm sorry, I never realised you were injured. Would you like a hand getting down?"

Virgil had slid from the seat onto the footrest, and was manoeuvring down onto a pair of crutches. He looked at her. "You know, that's been the nicest thing about our conversation so far. I've spent the last half hour talking to someone who isn't acting like they expect me to break apart any minute." He paused, "Sorry, that  sounded a bit rude,  didn't it? I'm afraid I'm a terrible patient -  I've been driving everybody mad at home for the last few weeks, so when Lady Penelope offered to have me stay with her it seemed a good idea all round."

"I know what you mean. I remember when my brother fell off his horse and broke his wrist when he was eighteen. It was just at the start of the cricket season and he was furious because he couldn't play all summer. How did yours happen?"

"Oh, I was climbing in the Italian Alps and got caught in a rock fall. I also got concussion – though that's OK now – and a couple of cracked ribs."

They went through a door into the kitchen where a middle-aged woman was working on some pastry. Amanda went up and gave her a hug. "Cookie, I've brought a friend home. Be a dear and rustle up some tea."

The older woman turned to see the handsome young man swaying slightly on his crutches. She noticed his pinched expression, and the dark rings around his eyes. "Of course, Miss Amanda. Why don't you go in the morning room? There's a fire laid in there and I can send in some crumpets for you to toast. Your young man looks a bit peaky to me."

Virgil wasn't quite sure what 'peaky' meant, but followed Amanda across a hallway that looked almost big enough to house Thunderbird 2, lined with suits of armour and stags' heads sticking out of the walls. They entered a smaller room, where Amanda quickly knelt and lit the fire. She climbed to her feet, dusting her hands. "I suppose I had better ring Penny in case she starts wondering if you've got lost" She turned to a vidphone of the wall and pressed some buttons. 

Virgil heard Parker's unmistakable tones. "Creighton-Ward mansion. Oh, good hafternoon, your ladyship."

"Good afternoon Parker. I presume Penny is still at her meeting? Well, if she starts to worry just tell her that I found her young American friend trespassing on the edge of our estate, and I'll bring him back when I have finished with him."

"Very good, your ladyship."

Just as Amanda finished the call the door opened to reveal a butler carrying a tray. "Your tea and crumpets, my lady."

Amanda thanked him and he left. Virgil turned to her. "Parker called you 'ladyship' as well," he said in a questioning tone.

She rolled her eyes. "Butlers are _such_ snobs! All right, my father was the 8th Viscount Denbigh, my brother is the 9th, and that makes me the Right Honourable Lady Amanda Leigh-Jones." She paused and glared at him, "and try calling me _that_, Mr Virgil-named-after-an-astronaut Tracy, and I shall break your _other_ leg!"  
"Yes ma'am, I mean no, ma'am" replied Virgil, grinning.

Amanda picked up the teapot, then hesitated. "I've just realised I should have asked – would you prefer coffee?"

Virgil shook his head. "It's all right – I've learned to drink tea when I'm in England. I just couldn't bear Parker's disapproving glances if I asked for coffee!"

"Oh, so this isn't your first visit, then?"

"No, I've been over before, but usually just for quick business trips" ('_with Thunderbird 2 concealed in the stable yard'_ he thought to himself), "This is the first time I'll have stayed for any length of time."

"What sort of business are you in?"

"I'm an engineer by training, but I work for my father. How about you – what do you do?"

"I'm a writer of historical romances – what are popularly known as 'bodice-rippers'. I don't write under my own name – the family would have a fit. I go by the pen-name of Annabelle Lee."

"You're Annabelle Lee?" 

Amanda was surprised at Virgil's reaction. "Don't tell me you've read any of my books!"

"You're one of Tin Tin's favourite authors. I think she must have all your books." He saw her puzzled look, "Tin Tin is my brother Alan's girlfriend. She lives with us on the island. Boy, is she going to be impressed when I tell her this!"

By now Amanda had toasted the first of the crumpets and passed it to Virgil, who ate it with relish.

"You've got a brother with you on that island as well, then?"

"In fact I've got four brothers – but we're not all there at once."

"How did you come to know Penny?"

"She sometimes does some business with my father. How about you?"

"Oh, we grew up together. She's a year older than me but I used to follow her around at school. We were always getting up to tricks. One time Penny phoned the school secretary, saying she was from the telephone company and needed to test the line. She made the poor woman repeat different phrases in French, German and Spanish to see if the school was using the 'right' sort of line for different languages."

Virgil started to laugh, then pressed his hand to his side, grimacing. "Ouch! I didn't realise how much it hurt to laugh."

Amanda looked at him. "No, you don't look like you've done any laughing for a while."

She was about to go on when the door opened. "Ah, there you are Amanda" said an older woman with a severe expression, "and this must be Lady Penelope's house guest."

Amanda introduced them. "Dorothy, this is Virgil Tracy. Virgil, this is my sister-in-law, Dorothy."

Virgil struggled to get to his feet. Pleased to meet you ma'am," then hesitated, looking towards Amanda "er, is 'ma'am' enough?"

Amanda laughed. "Ma'am will do fine." She looked at Dorothy. "Virgil is trying to get to grips with addressing the English aristocracy. But if you are back, then the meeting must be over, so I'll take him back to Penny's now."

Virgil said goodbye and she led him out of house to the stable yard. "Sorry, but my sister-in-law always manages to rub me up the wrong way. Now, shall I bring the trap round to the mounting block so you can get on?"

With Amanda leading the way again it was not long before they were back at Creighton-Ward Mansion. Penny came out of the house to meet them, and after Amanda had dismounted the two women hugged each other.

"Amanda," said Penny, "I didn't realise you were back here – you should have let me know!"

"Yes" replied Amanda, with mock ferocity, "and you should have let me know that you had a dishy young American staying with you. Trying to keep him to yourself, are you? _And _he tells me there are four others at home that you've never told me about!"

Virgil smiled to himself. Their playful banter reminded him of the way his brothers teased each other. Amanda turned to him "If you haven't seen much of the area round here, why don't we all go out for a picnic tomorrow? The forecast is good, and I think you should see what the countryside can look like in the sunshine."

So a time was set for the following day and Amanda rode off, turning to wave as she reached the bottom of the drive. Penny looked from her to Virgil. 'Yes' she thought, 'that might just work.'

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	2. Pastorale

Pastorale 

The following morning dawned bright and sunny. Amanda arrived mid-morning in a shiny, yellow sports car, but after some discussion with Penny the girls decided to hitch up the pony trap instead and loaded a picnic basket in the back. To Virgil's surprise, Penny declined to come. "Sorry, Virgil," she had said, "but I've got loads to organise for this gymkhana. I'm sure Amanda will look after you."

They set off down the drive, Virgil turning to wave at Penny. Amanda looked at him. "Penny isn't your girlfriend, then?"

"Oh, no," said Virgil, shaking his head "she's just a friend of the family. Though at one time I did used to think that she fancied my brother Scott, but nothing ever came of it, and he got married last year" 

Amanda kept the pony moving at a brisk pace as they drove across the countryside, pointing out features of interest along the way. After about an hour's drive, Amanda brought the cart to a halt at the top of a small hill that gave a good view of the landscape. As they settled themselves on the grass with the view spread out in front of them, Virgil had to appreciate it was certainly a beautiful spot, a contrast to both his island home and the Kansas plains of his childhood.

Amanda was interested to hear about his life, and he tried to describe what days were like on Tracy island (the public version of events at least) – how he and his brothers spent their time evaluating and testing new designs for his father's company. He pulled out his wallet. "I've got a photo of my brothers here, if you want to see them," he said, passing across a picture. "I should mention, though, we don't normally look that smart – this was taken at Scott's wedding.". Virgil thought about that day. Scott had insisted, for reasons he had never made clear, that both John and Alan should be at the wedding, so his father had put the space station on automatic for the day. He had also taken the chance of bringing a minister over from the mainland for the ceremony, and the family had kept their fingers crossed. However, their luck had held and no emergency calls had come in. Scott and Elizabeth had dropped the minister back home after the reception on the way to their honeymoon destination.

Amanda looked at the photo with interest. In the centre a tall, dark haired young man who bore a family resemblance to Virgil, stood holding the hand of a stunningly beautiful, dark-skinned girl. 'Poised' and 'elegant' were the words that came to mind to describe her, and the way she was looking at Scott made their love for each other plain. On either side of the bridal couple were Virgil and three other handsome young men. "You've all got quite a range of colouring between you," she observed.

"Yes," he answered, "Scott and I take after my father."

"And I suppose this one" She indicated the one with auburn hair, "takes after your mother?"

"That's right," said Virgil, surprised. "Her hair was almost the same colour as yours. How did you know?"

She laughed. "Us blue-bloods tend to know a bit about genetics. If you take after your father, then the blond ones have to have a recessive gene from each parent, and your other brother has to get his colouring from your mother." She was just about to add 'It's that, or the milkman', when she hesitated, suddenly realising something he had said. "Is your mother not around any more, then?"

"No," said Virgil, "she died when I was seven – in a plane crash."

"Oh, I'm sorry – and what a terrible age for it to happen."

He looked at her 'You mean there's a good age?"

She shook her head, "No, I don't suppose there is." She held out the photo again, "So tell me more about your family."

Over lunch (the picnic box contained cold chicken, fresh bread and a small bottle of chilled white wine)  they chatted about their families. Amanda told him how her father had died some years before, and her mother had remarried and now lived in Scotland. Amanda went on the describe how she had taken up writing soon after leaving university, when her first novel had become an overnight best-seller - much to her families' disgust.

After lunch was over, Amanda looked over to where Virgil was resting in the warm sunshine. He seemed to be finding it hard to keep his eyes open. "You look a little tired." she observed, "Why don't you have a nap?"

Virgil tried to smother a yawn. "If you don't think it rude of me – I think I'm probably still a bit jet-lagged."

"No problem," she replied "I can always get on with some notes for my new novel." 

A while later Amanda looked over to where Virgil lay, half propped up on one of the cushions from the cart. He seemed to be having some sort of bad dream, his head was shaking from side to side and his limbs moving restlessly.

Suddenly he sat up. "RUN, Scott!" he yelled. Amanda moved over to him and took hold of his arms. He looked round wildly. "My brother! Where is he? Is he alright? Was he hurt? Please, tell me!" His eyes were wide open with fear, and he was looking around, but some instinct told Amanda that he was still in the middle of his nightmare. Shaking him seemed to get no response, except to make his calls even more frantic. In a moment of inspiration, she leaned forward and kissed him hard, on the lips. As she drew back, he blinked, his eyes seeming to focus on her for the first time. "You – you kissed me!" he exclaimed.

"Yes," she said, gently releasing him back onto the cushions. "You were having a nightmare and it was the only way I could get your attention."

"Well, it worked." He seemed to hesitate. "What was I saying?" he asked, warily.

"You were trying to find out if your brother was injured. Is this to do with your accident?" she asked, touching the cast on his leg. 

"Yes" he said in a small voice, "I can't stop dreaming about it."

"You know, maybe you should get some counselling."

"No way!" he answered sharply, then added, "Sorry, but it's not really an option."

"OK, I know some people don't like the idea of counselling, but you need to do something. The memories are there – you don't like to think about them, but they are always there, aren't they? When you close your eyes at night they come back to you. You try not to sleep because when you do, they're in your dreams, and they will keep on haunting you until you deal with them."

By now Virgil was gazing at her in amazement. "How do you know all this?"

"You think you're the only one ever to have had a traumatic accident? When I was 18 I was in a car coming back from a party. We'd all had a bit to drink, including the driver. I was in the back seat with a couple of my friends. I don't know exactly what happened but the car tipped over. The girl in the front passenger seat was killed. For months after that I would dream of the car rolling over, and the screams in my ears. It took months of therapy for me to be able to come to terms with it." She looked at him, "If you like I can tell you some of the techniques that the therapist taught me."

"Yes, please, if you think it will help."

She settled herself down comfortably. "Well, I was told that the images come in your dreams only because you don't let yourself think of them consciously. So you pick yourself a time and place where you can relax, or you imagine yourself in a place where you feel comfortable, and then you think of the images that are scaring you. You then try to distance yourself form the images – think of yourself watching them on a tv screen, as if you are watching a movie; put it in black and white, like an old film, play music in the background. All this is known as 'desensitising'. Do it often enough and the images won't hold any fear for you any more."

"Thanks," he said, looking at her thoughtfully "I'll might just give that a try."

Amanda looked around, "Shall we pack up here? I can take you back a different route so you can see more of the countryside."

Once they were back at Creighton-Ward Mansion they made their way to the drawing room where they found Penny. Virgil limped in on his crutches and sank into an armchair. "That's better," he said. "You may get good views from that cart, but it's not the most comfortable vehicle I've been in!"

Both girls laughed, then Penny noticed Amanda touch the corner of her mouth and draw her finger across to her ear. "Amanda," she said, "could you be a dear and help me put the dog-cart away? It's Parker's afternoon off and there's rain forecast, so I'd like to get it under cover."

"Of course, Penny," said Amanda and followed her out of the room. "We'll be back in a minute, Virgil."

On their way through the kitchen, Penny turned to her friend. "Right, you said you wanted 'a word in my ear'. I haven't seen that signal since we were at school. What's up?"

 "I just thought you should know. Virgil fell asleep after lunch today. He woke up screaming." Amanda looked at Penny. "You don't seem surprised."

Penny shook her head. "I'm not. To tell you the truth, his father is far more worried about his mental state than he is about his physical injuries – that's why he was sent here." She looked at Amanda for a long minute. "I shouldn't really be telling you this, but you're an old friend, and I know I can trust you. There are more to that young man's injuries than he, or I, can tell you about, but I can tell you that that is one very brave young man, and one you would be proud to know."

"Why, Penny!" exclaimed Amanda, "how mysterious! Don't worry, my lips are sealed."

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	3. Scherzo

Scherzo

The following morning the rain had already set in, with a slow drizzle that looked determined to last all day. Amanda arrived and drove round to the stable yard, but as she climbed out of the car she heard her name being shouted from the tack room. She hurried across the yard and looked in to see Virgil with a pile of harnesses on the table in front of him. 

"Virgil!" she exclaimed, "what an earth are you doing?"

He gave a sheepish grin. "I was getting bored, so I asked Parker if there were any jobs I could help with, and he gave me this to do."

"Cleaning tack! That's what we used to be given as a punishment! Here, let me give you a hand." She pulled up another chair and reached for the bottle of polish.

Virgil watched her work and grinned. "Judging from your expertise, I'd say you got a lot of 'punishment duties'."

She pulled a face. "Penny was a bad influence on me – we were always getting into trouble for one thing or another." Over the next hour she proceeded to recount a series of pranks that eventually had Virgil holding his injured side and begging for mercy. Some of the escapades would have even aroused Gordon's admiration, and Virgil made a mental note never to tell his younger brother about this new side to Lady Penelope. The last thing they wanted was a game of one-upmanship on Tracy island, and though Virgil presumed the aristocrat had now grown out of such pranks he knew darn well that his brother hadn't. 

As they worked and chatted, Virgil discreetly studied the young lady sitting opposite him. The first couple of times they had met, she had been wearing her hair in a pony-tail. Today she wore it loose, pushed back with a hair-band. It was slightly darker than Gordon's, and was matched by the row of freckles that spread lightly across her nose and cheek bones, under her dancing green eyes. He wondered if he should tell her that she had a smudge of polish on the tip of her upturned nose, but decided against it – he thought it looked kinda cute. Suddenly he realised that she had asked him a  question.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't quite catch that."

"I asked if you were a member of the CIA, or the FBI?"

"No," said Virgil, wondering where this had come from, but deciding to keep the mood light, "nor, for that matter, M15, the KGB or the French Foreign Legion – though, of course, if I did belong to any of those, I would still have to tell you I didn't. What made you ask that?"

"Oh, just something Penny said." Virgil frowned, wondering what Lady Penelope could have been thinking of, but Amanda continued on. "Did you know that Penny's great-great-grandmother was a spy for the French Resistance in the Second World War? I often think Penny would have liked to be like her."

"No," said Virgil, "I never knew that." _('but I see now where she gets it from'_ he thought to himself.)

Just then Parker appeared with a large umbrella. "Luncheon his being served hin the Music Room.," and using the umbrella, escorted the guests into the house.

After cleaning up, they entered the music room to find Penny seated with a plate of sandwiches and drinks. "There you are, Virgil. I gather Parker has been keeping you occupied this morning. I thought we'd have lunch in here then we can look out over the rose garden – they are looking so pretty at the moment." She paused a moment and looked at him, "Then maybe after lunch you might like to play the piano for Amanda."

"Oh, do you play?" asked Amanda, eagerly.

"Well," said Virgil, "I'm a bit rusty. I haven't played since my accident. When I tried before I found it was making my ribs hurt."

Penny knew full well that Virgil hadn't been playing. This was one of the things that was worrying his father, who knew how music acted as a release for his son's feelings. Penny was counting on the fact that Virgil wouldn't refuse to play in front of a guest.

After he had finished eating, Virgil made his way to the piano and sat down, flexing his fingers. He tried a few scales with his right hand, while his left pressed against his injured side. "Doesn't feel too bad," he observed, half to himself, then turned to his audience, "Well, I can't promise anything spectacular, but any requests?"

The two girls looked at each other, then Penny said, "No, just play whatever you feel like, dear boy."

Virgil started with _Moonlight sonata_ and then went on to _Clair de lune_. Then, with a small smile in Penny's direction he started on a piano version of Cas Carnaby's _Dangerous game_. Amanda was surprised to hear Penny singing softly beside her. She turned to her friend "I didn't know there were any words to that tune."

"There aren't – officially," replied Penny, "This is something Virgil wrote for me once."

 When he had finished, Amanda applauded. "Well, if that's how you play when you're a 'bit rusty' then you must be brilliant normally." She paused, "I've just realised, I'm going to a 'Prom' concert tomorrow night – my uncle and aunt are using our family box. It's a 'Russian' night and one of the pieces is a piano concerto. Would you like to come along? They told me I could bring a friend if I wanted."

Virgil looked puzzled. "Is that like a High School Prom? I'm not exactly up to dancing at the moment, you know."

Both girls laughed. "No, Virgil," explained Penny. "the Proms are a series of concerts held every summer at the Royal Albert Hall in London. All the seats are taken out of the centre of the hall so the audience can stand and watch the orchestra. But don't worry, the boxes around the sides of the auditorium have seats, so you won't have to stand."  
Amanda continued "The Albert Hall was built in a rather unusual way. Money was raised by people buying leaseholds on boxes for a specified number of years. Our family has a box whose lease still has another 30 years to run. We don't use it much, but my aunt likes Tchaikovsky, so she's going to this particular concert."

"Sounds great!" said Virgil, "I'd love to come – if it's OK with your relatives."  
"Fine, I'll go and ring them now."

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	4. Largo

Largo

Two days later, Penny was on the phone to Jeff, "I think we might have made a breakthrough here, Jeff," she said. She paused, recalling Amanda's description of the previous evening – how Virgil had sat for most of the first part of the concert leaning over the edge of the box, watching the musicians below, and the antics of the Promenaders. At the start of the second piece (Shostakovich's Piano Concerto No.2) he had kept his eyes fixed on the pianist. She had looked at him again during the second, slow movement to see that he was resting his chin on his hands and his eyes were half shut. At the end of that movement he had heaved a great sigh 'Just as if' Amanda had said, 'a great weight had slipped from his shoulders.' Penny continued "All day he's been at the piano trying to play the piece he heard last night."

"Well, get it for him then!" exclaimed Jeff.

"We've already ordered it – it should be here tomorrow."

"Great. Do you think it worth my sending some more of his music over, and his backing machine?"

"I don't see why not – it can't do any harm. But, Jeff, it's just lovely to have a glimpse of the 'old' Virgil again, instead of that morose young man who arrived here."

"He's not giving you a hard time?" queried Jeff. Virgil didn't often get bad moods, which was why the change since his recent injury had been so worrying. 

"Don't worry, Jeff, it's nothing I can't cope with." She paused, "and my old friend Amanda seems to be helping a bit too."

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow, "anything going on I should know about?"

"I don't know, Jeff – too soon to say. I think they're just enjoying each other's company at the moment." She looked round, "I can hear him coming down the stairs, so I'd better go. Good night, or rather, good morning in your time!"

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	5. Allegro vivace

Allegro vivace

As the days passed, Virgil was indeed improving. He had never realised before his accident how much life on Tracy Island revolved around some physical activity or another. When they weren't doing maintenance on their machines the boys would usually be swimming, playing tennis, working out in the gym or doing some form of physical exercise. Just sitting there watching his brothers race around had been frustrating, especially when he found he couldn't even play his precious piano, and he had sunk into a black mood. Here in England, Penny and Amanda between them were doing their best to keep him occupied. Amanda seemed to have given up on the idea of returning to her flat, saying she couldn't face the mess she would find when she got there.

He was sleeping better, though whether this was because he was tired from the day's activities, or because he was practising Amanda's mental exercises, he could not tell.

 On good days they would take the pony trap out. Virgil had been horrified to discover over breakfast one morning that the pony actually belonged to the Duchess of Royston. "She won't be coming here, will she, Penny?" he said, in an alarmed tone, "She might recognise me."

"Don't worry, dear boy," she reassured him, "Deborah's doing a lecture tour in America for Gambler's Anonymous – going down quite well from what I hear." She looked at his expression. "This is more than worry over being recognised, isn't it? I know she can be a bit formidable at times"

Virgil grimaced. "That's a one word for it. You didn't have to ride in the Mole with her. And then when we got back to TB2 she wanted to sit on the flight deck – said she never travelled in 'standard class accommodation'!" 

Penny laughed. "That sounds just like Deborah."

They had visited art galleries, and a piano museum run by a friend-of-a-friend of Amanda's where Virgil (having demonstrated his skills on a baby grand) had a fascinating afternoon  playing some of the old instruments such as a harpsichord and a clavichord. On another day Amanda took him to a medieval cathedral, where his engineering expertise had been impressed by the craftsmanship of those who had built such huge structures in a pre-machine age. They had also attended other concerts, including a gala to raise funds for the victims of the recent earthquake in Florence.

One morning, Amanda arranged to pick him up slightly earlier than usual, saying they had a long drive ahead.

"Where are we going?" he asked as he climbed into the car.

"I'm taking you to see Stonehenge. I think you'll be impressed."

'Impressed' wasn't the word. Virgil had seen pictures of the ancient structure before, but that was nothing to compare with standing next to it, and putting his hand on one of the roughly hewn stones. He had visited the pyramids in Egypt, and Mayan temples, but those had been built by civilised communities. The idea that this structure had been raised by a society that didn't even have a written culture staggered him. Amanda touched him on the shoulder. "I thought you'd like it," she said.

He looked round at her. "I'm just trying to calculate how much power it would take to lift

one of those lintel stones." In fact he knew exactly how much power it would need. His hands clenched on the handles of his crutches as if they were the throttle controls of TB2, ready to move them just the right amount. His craft was one of the most advanced on the planet, and even she would find it an effort to lift one of these stones, yet these people had done it with ropes and frames. He shook his head in wonderment.

On the way home he remained lost in his thoughts. Amanda smiled, and put the radio on.

As they were nearing home the announcer's voice came on. "This is the news from the BBC. Earlier today International Rescue were called to an oil refinery in Morocco where six of the workers had been trapped in a fire. All were rescued.

_('I hate oil refinery fires' _thought Virgil_. 'Dirty, smelly job. Can be tricky too. Sounds like Gordon managed it OK')_

"-tional rescue craft nearly needed rescuing itself when it was seen to collide with a pylon when coming into land. Today the Prime Minister visited …"

('What! That damn fool kid brother of mine. If he's damaged my Thunderbird I'll have his guts! Probably too busy thinking up his next scam to look where he's going. Just wait till I get my hands on him. Wonder if Dad would let me pilot again yet. My head's OK now, and my side. I could stay in the cockpit and let Gordon do the running around. The only problem would be the rudder – I wonder how much feeling I've got through this cast?')

He looked down at the pedals of Amanda's car. "Hey, Amanda, any chance you would let me have a go at driving this thing?"

"Of course, Virgil, once you're out of your cast I'd be glad to."

"No, I mean now."

"You can't mean it?"

"Yes, I do. I've got to know if I can do this. Stop the car, please."

"Virgil, don't be silly! We're on a public road here." She glanced at him. "You're serious about this, aren't you? Look, once we've turned into Penny's drive I'll stop and you can try there, OK?"

On arriving at the Creighton-Ward Mansion, Amanda stopped just inside the gate and got out. Virgil came round and climbed in the driver's seat. At his first attempt to set off he stalled the engine. On the second the car surged forward with a roar – straight into the middle of a rose-bed.

"Virgil! That's enough. Get out now!"

Virgil climbed out, a scowl on his face. "If I've scratched the car, don't worry, I'll pay for it."

"It's not the car I'm worried about, it's you – and Penny's flowerbed. Get back in the passenger seat and let's have no more of this nonsense."

They drove the rest of the way to the house in silence. As they pulled up, Penny ran down the steps to meet them. "Virgil, your father phoned earlier – just to let you know that everything is fine at home."

"I want to talk to him now!" Virgil demanded angrily, climbing out of the car.

She looked at him, conscious that Amanda was also listening "I think they'll probably still be asleep now. I gather from something your father said that they'd all had a busy day. He said he'd call again tomorrow and talk to you then."

Virgil scowled, and turned to climb the steps into the house, muttering "Can't a guy ever get to do what he wants round here?" and disappeared inside without even a glance in Amanda's direction.

Amanda watched him go, a hurt expression on her face. Penny turned to her and rolled her eyes, saying the only thing she could think of to explain his behaviour. "Men!" She turned to Amanda, smiling to cover what was proving to be an awkward moment. "Would you like to come in for some tea?"

"No, thanks, Penny, I'd better be getting back. Oh, and I'm afraid we damaged one of you rose-beds near the front gate, sorry." Then she got back into the car and drove off, not even bothering to return Penny's wave.

Supper was a subdued affair. Later that evening, as Virgil was getting ready for bed his wristcomm bleeped. It was Scott. "Hi, there, little brother. Sorry we missed you earlier. I presume you heard the news?"

Virgil nodded. "Yes. What happened?"

"It was nothing really. It was just that some reporter was hacked off because we wouldn't let him film, and decided to make a big thing of it. Remember when you were trying to land on Ocean Pioneer II and hit the aerial? Well, it was no worse than that."

"Hey, that was in thick fog!"

"Yes, and today the visibility was obscured by smoke from the fire. Give the kid a break, Virg, he's doing OK. We've checked over your Thunderbird and there's no harm done."

"Well, that's a relief. Anything else happening at home?"

"Not much since the last time I called. Lets see, Tin Tin and Elizabeth have been shopping again – why girls need so many clothes beats me." Both brothers laughed. "What else? Oh, yes, Brains is trying to teach Braman how to play table tennis."

"He's doing what?" said Virgil, laughing again.

 "He says it will improve Braman's motor skills, or something. Oh, and I think Gordon's working on some prank for when you get back

"Thanks for the warning, big brother, I'll be on my guard."

Scott looked at his brother. "It seems awfully quiet here without the piano going all day."

"Well, I'm getting some practice in here, playing for Penny and Amanda."

"How are you getting on with your new ladyfriend?"

Virgil looked embarrassed. "I think she's a bit hacked off with me at the moment. I managed to drive her car into the middle of a flowerbed this afternoon." He gave Scott a quick summary of the afternoon's events.

"You're kidding! Virgil, did you honestly expect that Dad would let you fly TB2 with your leg in plaster? That crack you had on the head must be more serious than we thought!" He grinned to show that he was joking.

"Yes, I suppose I wasn't thinking very clearly at the time. I shall have to apologise to her in the morning."

"Yeah, you do that."

"Oh, that sounds like 'married man' talking. Elizabeth got you well-trained, has she?"

Scott gave a sly grin. "It has its compensations, little brother, believe me."

 Virgil stifled a yawn, "Well, it's been a long day here, so I think I'll hit the sack. Talk to you again soon. G'night!"

            ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	6. Allegro con brio

Allegro con brio

The following day Penny came back into the house, having been out to discuss the damage to the rose-bed with the gardener. She paused as she entered the hall, hearing the sounds coming from the music room. She recognised the first movement of Grieg's Piano concerto, but never before had she heard it being played with such – well 'fury' was the only word to describe it. A comment Scott had made once when she was visiting the Tracy family came back to her 'You can always tell what mood Virgil is in from the way he plays.' Well, judging from this, he was absolutely livid. She hesitated with her hand on the door-knob.

"Er, m'lady,"

She turned as she heard Parker's voice, and indicated the music room with a nod of her head. "Parker? Do you know what is wrong with our guest?"

Parker hesitated, "Er, hy think there 'as been some problem with the Lady Hamanda."

The music was just building to a crescendo as she slipped in. Virgil sat at the piano, his face as black as a thundercloud, pounding at the keys. As the first movement came to a close, Penny moved forward. "Bravo! Virgil darling, that was breathtaking. But do, please, have some consideration for the poor piano – it's a good deal older than you are."

Virgil looked up at her. "She's gone, Penny."

"Who's gone?" though she knew exactly who he meant.

"Amanda. I went to call her this morning and she's left – gone back to her own home."

"And you're surprised?"

"What?"

Penny hadn't thought Virgil's scowl could get any deeper, but it did. She put her hands on her hips. "Honestly, you Tracy men! I can see why Tin Tin gets so exasperated with you all. You fly all these wonderful machines, you rescue people from the brink of death, but when it comes to other people's feelings, you just don't have a clue, do you? Amanda's spent the last couple of weeks keeping you amused, and yesterday, after a perfectly lovely day out, you throw a tantrum on the way home for no reason, nearly wreck her car, then storm off into the house without even saying 'good-bye' and now you're surprised she's had enough of you?"

"I had a very good reason yesterday!" protested Virgil.

"Yes, dear boy, I know that and so do you, but what does Amanda see? Some spoilt rich man's kid throwing a wobbler because just for once he can't have what he wants?"

Virgil opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. He let out a deep breath. "I blew it, didn't I?"

"Yes, you blew it – big-time, as you Americans say."

He turned to her, despair on his face. "What can I do, Penny?"

"Well, you can start by apologising."

"OK, I'm sorry."  
"Not to me, idiot." She raised her eyes heavenwards "Men!" Then she turned to Virgil again. "Hang on, I've got her number somewhere. You can use the 'phone in the library, it'll be more private."

That night, as Virgil lay in bed, he thought back over the day's events. When he had rung Amanda he had got an answering machine, and it didn't feel right apologising to that, so at Penny's suggestion he had ordered some flowers. (The note had said 'Forgive me – PLEASE!!! – Poet') but as yet he had not had any response. He wondered if Amanda was still mad at him.

That night, in his dreams, he found himself again in familiar surroundings. He tossed and turned in his sleep, knowing what was going to happen, but unable to stop it. Again he stood in a rubble strewn street, with smoke from various fires drifting overhead. Again he felt the tremor beneath his feet and watched as the wall in the distance began to topple over. But this time the figure standing under that wall, oblivious to the danger, was not his brother Scott, but Amanda. He tried to run towards her but he couldn't move his leg. He looked down to see that it was pinned under one of the lintel stones from Stonehenge. He would need to calculate how much thrust was required in order to move it. His hands reached for the throttle controls of Thunderbird 2 – and suddenly he was sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat and breathing hard. He leaned back against the bed-head, pushing the damp hair back off his forehead, trying to slow his breathing and steady his nerves. He shook his head, trying to sort out the vivid dream images – what the heck did all that mean? 

Virgil looked at his watch – just after 2 a.m. – that would make it mid-afternoon at home. His hand hesitated over the call button, then dropped. Scott could add up just as well as he could, and would want to know why his younger brother was calling home in the middle of the English night. Virgil was aware that the main reason he had been packed off to Penny's was because his father had found out that Scott had been spending nights sleeping in a chair in Virgil's room because of his brother's nightmares. It had worried Virgil too: as well as being aware he was not there on rescues to watch Scott's back, he also knew there was more risk of mistakes if Scott was tired when he went out on a mission.

He rubbed his temples, realising he was too keyed up now to try to get back to sleep. He would have liked to go downstairs and play the piano, but the music room was under Penny's bedroom, and he didn't want to risk waking her: Also he was aware that there might be burglar alarms on the house – something the Tracys didn't have to worry about on their island home. Well, there was one last resort: He leaned over to the bedside table and picked up the sketch pad and pencils and began to draw. Soon he was absorbed in his work.

            ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	7. Legato

Legato

The following morning Virgil shut himself away in the conservatory. His family had sent over his painting gear in the same parcel as his music, and Penny had offered him the use of the conservatory, where the light was good. He had been working for a couple of hours when Parker appeared to tell him he was wanted on the 'phone, and showed him into the library.

Amanda's face looked out of the vidscreen. "Hallo, Poet," she said with a smile. "I just called to thank you for the lovely flowers." She looked closer and pointed to his cheek. "What have you got on your face?"

He rubbed it, and looked at his hand. "It's paint. I'm making you a present to apologise for the way I behaved – it was going to be a surprise, but never mind. I'm sorry I lost my temper like that the other day - it doesn't happen very often." He paused, "Are you coming back?"

She looked at his hopeful expression. "I won't be back just yet – I've got to go and see my publisher, and there are a few other errands I need to run, but I'll be at Lady Fortescue's party on Friday – you're going to be there, aren't you?"

"Yes, I think so. Penny seems to think she can hire me a suit with one leg cut off."  
"Well, you can't be the only man to want to go to a party with a broken leg, so I'm sure the hire firms must cater for it, and Philippa's parties are always fun – they're one of the high points of the season.. See you Friday then. Bye!"

Virgil returned to his painting in a much lighter mood. Right, he had two days to finish this – he had better get a move on.

Friday afternoon Penny returned from a shopping trip to hear piano music being played. She paused, trying to judge the mood. The music was the _Warsaw concerto_ – plenty of emotion there, certainly, but none of the desperation of the other day. She entered the room quietly, though looking at Virgil's absorbed expression she realised he probably would not have noticed if she had come in at the head of a brass band in full swing. 

The music drew to a close and he sat there for a minute, lost in his thoughts. He looked up with a start as she spoke. "That was beautiful, dear boy." She paused, "Is the painting finished, then?"

"Yes, it's drying now."

She came towards him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Gosh, you're tense." She started to rub his shoulders. "All that emotion from the music seems to have ended up in your muscles."

He relaxed under her ministrations. "Oh, that feels great. I'd better not let the other boys know you can do this or you'll never get a moment to yourself next time you visit us." She paused for a minute "You're missing Amanda, aren't you?" 

"Yes" he answered. "I hadn't realised how much I was enjoying her company until she went away." He paused, then, deciding to risk it, asked a question he had wondered about for a long time. "Penny, how come you've never married?"

 "Well, like I said earlier, you Tracys aren't very good when it comes to recognising other people's feelings."

"Are we talking about Scott here?"

She paused in her task. "He never seemed to notice me."   
"Well, he wasn't pulling you out of a pile of wreckage."  
"Hah! If I'd known that was all it would take I would have set fire to this place years ago." She moved round to sit beside him. "I missed my chance, Virgil. Not everyone is lucky enough to get a second one."

He nodded. "I know, I won't blow it this time. And Penny," he took hold of her hand, "Scott does care for you. We all do. There isn't one of us who wouldn't swim a crocodile- infested river for you." He looked down at his leg, and gave a grin. "Only maybe not right now."

"Thank you, dear boy, that's very sweet of you. And that reminds me – I must get the lake restocked next time I'm at Harrods." She stood up and turned to leave. By the time she had got to the door he was playing again, picking out the notes of a tune with one hand. She turned. "What's that? I don't recognise it."

He looked up, "Oh, just some old pop tune I can't seem to get out of my head at the moment – you know how it is."

Penny left the room, thoughtfully.

            ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	8. Adagio

Adagio

That evening the Rolls pulled up in front of another palatial mansion. Penny got out, and as Virgil made his exit he murmured to Parker, who was holding the door "Tell me, Parker, does everyone in England live in huge houses and call each other '-ship'?"

 Parker rolled his eyes "Hit sometimes seems that way, sir."

Once they had entered the house, Penny was soon surrounded by friends, with cries of "Penny, dahling!" She was careful to introduce Virgil to everyone, but after a while he started to feel a bit superfluous; and all this standing around was making his leg ache. He looked through an open doorway into another room, then turned to Penny. "Penny, would anyone mind if I went and played the piano for a bit?"

"Oh course not, dear boy, this is a party – do whatever you want."

He limped in and sat down at the piano. There were a few other people in the room talking, but no-one seemed to take any notice. He started playing quietly, and was soon absorbed in the music. 

"That's lovely – what is it called?"

He looked up to see a young lady leaning on the side of the piano. looking at him. "It's called _Beautiful dreamer_ – it was written about 200 years ago by a man called Stephen Foster. He wrote some lovely songs" Virgil started on another tune, "This one's called _Jeannie with the light brown hair_"

The girl looked round and called to one of her friends, "Hey, Jeannie, did you know there's a song about you?"

The second girl approached as Virgil played the tune. She turned to her friend, "No, Michelle, I've never heard that before." Virgil looked at the first girl. " Michelle? There's one for you, too," he said, launching into the Beatles song.

"Do you know a song for every girl's name?" asked Jeannie.

"I'm not sure," said Virgil with a grin, "I haven't met them all."

"Right!" said Michelle "that sounds like a challenge if ever I heard one!" She turned to her friend. "Let's go and see who we can find."

Virgil was quickly introduced to a Diana, a Susie and a Jennifer, and played a song for each one, singing the name-line in his soft voice. Another girl approached, to be introduced as Annie. Virgil hesitated. "Don't tell me we've found a name you don't know a song for!" said one of the girls.

Virgil looked at her, "No, I know the tune, I just don't know any words to it – I just know it as 'Song for Annie'" and he began to play a lovely, lilting tune.

"Do you think he's making these up?" asked one of the girls.

"Well, I know that last one," said another, "I used to play it on my recorder when I was at school."

Soon there was quite a sizeable crowd around the piano, and Virgil was kept busy. He smiled to himself – he hadn't played this particular party trick since his college days, but it seemed to be working just as well as it always did. Eventually he heard Penny's voice over the crowd. "I should have guessed – if there's a crowd of young women, there's  a Tracy in the middle of it." He looked up with a sheepish grin, then his expression changed as he realised Amanda was standing beside her, looking (to his eyes) breathtaking in a turquoise evening gown.

"Penny's turn!" cried out one of the girls, so Virgil launched into _Penny Lane_, with several of the girls, who had done classical music at school, joining in the singing.

"Have you got one for Amanda, too?" asked Penny.

He looked up, his voice suddenly solemn. "Yes, I have," he said and started playing. Penny recognised the tune as the one she had heard as she was leaving the music room that afternoon. He began to sing softly in his gentle voice, never taking his eyes off Amanda – 

"I never realised how happy you made me, 

Oh Mandy

You came and you gave without taking

And I sent you away, 

Oh Mandy

You kissed me and stopped me from shaking

And I need you today, 

Oh, baby I love you"

The raw emotion in his face and voice was too much for Amanda. She came forward and kissed him on the lips, to cries and wolf-whistles from the surrounding audience, then leaned over and with one hand started to pick out '_Chopsticks_' on the piano. He responded with the other hand, and they broke off from their kiss to finish the tune to a round of applause.

"Come on, Virgil" she said, picking up his crutches and hauling him to his feet. "I'm taking you away before you embarrass me any more" and they headed through the French doors into the night.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends," said Virgil, feeling suddenly awkward as they headed down into the garden. 

"You didn't – it was a very sweet and romantic gesture and at least it will give all those gossips back there something to talk about. Come on, I know a place where we can sit and talk." They were approaching what Virgil presumed to be some sort of summerhouse, built in the style of a Greek temple. Suddenly Amanda halted, pointing to a small white object visible on the steps that looked to Virgil like a handkerchief. "Too late, it's already occupied. Come on, we can go into the rose garden" 

As they turned into a walled garden, where the scent of roses hung heavy on the night air, Virgil started to laugh. "What's so funny?" asked Amanda, "Don't you think the aristocracy do that sort of thing? How do you think we get little aristocrats?"

Virgil chuckled, "No, I'm laughing because I've just realised we have a similar system at home. There's a cove on the far side of the island that you can only reach by going along the top of the cliff then down some steps – but if someone's left a towel at the top of the steps it means they want the place to themselves, so you don't go down."

"Oh?" she replied, a warning note in her voice, "and just who have you been leaving towels lying around for?"

Vigil turned to face her, his arms going around her waist, "I think I'd better plead the fifth amendment on that one," he replied with a grin.

"The fifth what?"

"American joke." He paused, looking deep into her eyes. "Amanda, I want to apologise again for how I behaved the other day. I had my reasons, but it was wrong of me to take it out on you like that. You were right to treat me like you did, but I missed you so much when you were away – it was as if all the colour had gone out of the world. Please say you've forgiven me."

She put her arms around his neck. The top of her head was just level with his chin. "Tell me, were those the real words to that song, or did you make them up?"

"No, those are the actual words – but I meant every single one of them."

"Well, let me see," she went on, thoughtfully, "you've apologised beautifully, you've serenaded me, and apparently you've even painted a picture for me as well. Are you always so thorough in everything you do?"

"Always" he answered gravely, and to prove his point kissed her as thoroughly as he knew how. 

She gave a delicious shudder as his fingers ran down her spine, bare in the low-cut back of her dress. "Are you practising one of your piano tunes on me?" she murmured.

"Mandy, my love," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "I'd like to play an entire symphony on you." He kissed her again, as he couldn't really believe that she had tasted of rose petals the first time. "But we'll have to wait till I'm out of this darned plaster."

"Yes," she agreed, "that's probably as good as a chastity belt."

"A what?"

"English joke. You remember, we saw one in that old castle we visited?"

He chuckled, "And you're supposed to be a lady!"

She was suddenly serious. "Virgil, what's going to happen to us? Is this just some holiday romance for you?"

He shook his head, holding her close, his hand stroking her hair. "No, I don't think so. I nearly lost you once, I don't want to do that again." He paused, thinking. He had spent the last few days considering the same question. There was no doubt in his mind about his love for her. What he was uncertain about was whether he could make her part of his life. Scott had managed with Elizabeth – could he do the same? What could he tell her about his life? Should he tell her? Was it fair not to? "Look," he said eventually, "this plaster is due off in a week, and then I'll have to go for some physio. Not too much, I hope, I've been doing all the exercises they gave me. I was thinking of going somewhere near to home, but I could see if I could get booked in somewhere over here. Then, maybe afterwards, you could come home with me for a visit. How does that sound?"

"Sounds a good plan to me." Reaching up, she kissed him again, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair. "Come on, we'd better be getting back, or people will start wondering where we are."

Back inside the guests were helping themselves at the buffet. Amanda gave him a little shove. "Go find yourself a seat, I'll bring you some food over."

"Thanks," he said, "I don't think I could manage a plate and these crutches."

He sat himself down in a corner, from where he could watch Amanda across the room. His reverie was interrupted by a voice. "Do you mind if I join you? I think we wallflowers should stick together!"

Virgil looked round to see a man about his father's age, sitting in an electric wheelchair. The man held out his hand. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Mike Roberts, Philippa's uncle."

Virgil shook the hand. "Virgil Tracy. I guess I'm what you'd call a gate-crasher. I came with Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward – she's an old friend of my family. I'm staying with her while my leg heals"

"Well, if you're a friend of Penny's you're welcome. I've known her since she was a little girl – used to give her rides in my chair." 

Virgil blinked - the things he was finding out about Penny on this trip! Mike looked at his leg. "How did you come to do that anyway?"

"It was a climbing accident, in the Alps."

"How much longer will you be in plaster?"

"Only another week."

"Have you arranged anything about physiotherapy? Only there's a brilliant place I go to several times a year, with my family. It's on the island of Corfu and is a sort of rehab holiday camp. It's set up to take able-bodied as well as disabled. You each get your own cabin, and a programme of therapy, then in between you are encouraged to walk, swim, cycle, ride, whatever you are capable of , with your able-bodied friends. If you like, I'll send you the details."

"Yes, please do" replied Virgil, thinking he must talk to Amanda about this – it sounded perfect.

"And what do you do with yourself when you're not falling off mountains?"

"I work for my father's firm – Tracy Transport."

"Hey, you're not related to Alan Tracy, are you?"

"Yes, he's my youngest brother." Virgil had met this reaction before, though those asking the question were usually a lot younger, and female.

"This is great! Alan's raced against my team many times!"

Virgil did a double-take, suddenly realising he was talking to the head of the British motor racing team. "Mike Roberts! Of course, I'm sorry, I didn't make the connection. Alan talks about you a lot at home."

"I haven't seen Alan much this season, I hope he's all right?"

"Yes, that's my fault I'm afraid. With me being out of the picture he's been needed to help with the business. He's hoping I'll be back in time for him to make the last few races of the season."

 "That's a wonderful car he's got. And that engineer chap you've got working for you – Hiram-something. What a genius! I'll tell you, I offered him a raise if he'd come and work for me, but he said he wasn't interested."

"No," said Virgil, "he likes working for Dad, because he can work on whatever he wants" then he told Mike about the table-tennis playing robot, much to the older man's amusement.

Their laughter was interrupted by the approach of Penny and Amanda. "Hallo, Uncle Mikey" said Penny, bending down to give him a kiss.

"Penny" he said, "you never told me you knew Alan Tracy's family. The next time you visit them I want you to come home with all their secrets."

"OK, Uncle Mike, I'll see what I can do," said Penny, at the same time thinking _'You'd have a shock if I did'_

Virgil spent the rest of the evening chatting with Mike and some of the other guests until the party was over. That night he did not dream.

Author's note: 'Mandy' copyright Scott English/Richard Ken, 1975 

            -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	9. Intermezzo

Intermezzo

Amanda drove over from Denbigh Hall the following morning in pouring rain. Virgil was waiting for her in the hall, and greeted her with a kiss. Then he led her into the conservatory and took the cover off the painting that was propped on the easel. Amanda found herself looking at a view of Stonehenge, as it must have looked when it was first built. It was shown under a grey sky, but with a shaft of sunlight illuminating the front of the stones. After a pause, she turned to Virgil, smiling. "You want to apologise for a row, so you rebuild Stonehenge for me. What would you do if we'd had a real fight?" She looked at the picture again, "I don't remember the weather being that bad when we were there."

"It wasn't – that's just how I was feeling when I painted it."

She thought of his words from the previous night '_all the colour had gone out of the world'_. Well, this man certainly knew how to make his feelings plain. She put her arms around him and kissed him. "Thank you, Virgil, it's beautiful – I shall treasure it."

Later that day, as the rain showed no sign of letting up, Penny and Amanda were teaching Virgil how to play croquet in one of the upstairs corridors, when the in-house intercom buzzed. "Yes, Parker?" said Penny.

"Mr Jeff Tracy calling for Mr Virgil, m'lady." answered Parker. Penny and Virgil looked at each other with raised eyebrows – it must be the small hours of the morning on Tracy Island. "Thank you, Parker. Please transfer the call to the Blue Room – we'll take it in there." She turned to Virgil. "I'll show you the way."

The vidscreen showed Jeff looking tired, but relaxed. "Is something the matter, Father?" asked Virgil, concerned. He looked at the screen, unused to seeing the lounge from the angle that Penny's picture showed it. In the background he could see Scott, John and Gordon, still in their blue uniforms, relaxing in chairs. 

"It's all right, Jeff," said Penny, "this is a secure line."

Jeff smiled. "Just thought you might want to hear it from us first, before you hear any news broadcasts. The boys have just got back from a rescue – there was a landslip on a mountain pass in Peru and a family were trapped in their car, but everybody is safe, and Gordon assures me he didn't put a scratch on your Thunderbird."

"Thanks for letting me know, Dad. It's all right – I trust Gordon with my machine – just as long as he doesn't go leaving a whoopee cushion on the seat for me when I get back!"

"Hey!" said Gordon's voice in the background, "I hadn't thought of that!"

"Don't go giving him ideas," growled their father, "he's quite bad enough already." He looked at Virgil, only just realising his middle son was red in the face as if he'd been exercising hard. "What are you up to at the moment?"

Virgil laughed. "Well, I've been told it's raining 'cates and dawgs' outside," he said in an exaggerated English accent, "so Penny and Amanda are teaching me a fiendish game called 'indoor croquet'. Don't let anyone tell you about the British sense of fair play – they cheat like crazy. Ow!" he exclaimed as Penny pinched his arm.

"We do not, dear boy. You're just a bad loser."

Jeff laughed. "Sounds like you're enjoying yourself, anyway. Oh, and your Grandma wants to know if you're eating enough."

Virgil grinned. "You can tell Grandma I'm eating so much you'll have to send Thunderbird 2 to collect me – nothing else will get me off the ground. Oh, and Dad, I ran into a racing friend of Alan's last night – Mike Roberts. He's told me about this great rehab place he goes to." He outlined the details for his father.

Jeff nodded. "Well, if it comes recommended like that it can't be bad. Go ahead and book yourself in. I want you to be A1 before you come back home." He paused and looked at his son. "I've got some business I need to discuss with Penny. Perhaps you should go back to your friend, before she starts wondering what is going on. I'll call again soon"

"F.A.B. Dad, Goodnight!" He looked at his brothers, "'Night, guys!"

Virgil left the room, and headed back to Amanda. He was pretty sure that the 'business' was to do with him, but the idea that his father was checking up on him didn't bother him like it had when he had first arrived in England.

After the door closed, Jeff spoke to Penny. "Virgil seems to be a lot better."

"Oh, he is, Jeff," said Penny with enthusiasm. "He's like a totally different person from the one who arrived here a few weeks ago. He's back to his old self again."

"I'm very grateful to you for all your help."

"Jeff, I think you're thanking the wrong person. I think most of the improvement has been due to Amanda."

"Oh, is this getting serious then?"

Penny nodded. "Yes, Jeff, I think it is. Don't be surprised if Virgil asks to have 'a little chat' with you sometime soon."

She signed off, leaving Jeff staring thoughtfully at the screen.

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	10. Andante

Andante

A week later, Penny was sitting in the library in the evening when Virgil entered. The plaster had been removed from his leg that morning, but he still needed one crutch.  She looked up and smiled. "All packed?"

He sat down. "Yes, I've packed what I'll need for the next couple of weeks, and asked Parker to parcel up the rest and send it home."

"Fine. He'll take you and Amanda to the airport in the morning." She pointed to his leg, "How does it feel?"

"It's a bit stiff, but not too painful. I feel more lopsided than anything – I guess my body must have got used to the extra weight." He looked up. "Penny, I feel I must apologise. I know I didn't behave very well when I first arrived, and I want to thank you for putting up with me."

She smiled at him. "That's all right, Virgil. I know you weren't feeling very well. I'm just glad to see you back to your old self."

"Thank you, anyway." He hesitated. "Would you vouch for Amanda for me – to Father, I mean?"

"Of course I will. Are you going to tell her?"

He nodded. "It's only fair. Elizabeth knew what she was getting into. Tin Tin's always known. Amanda has a right to know what to expect."

She smiled. "Well, I'm very happy for both of you."

 He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, "Don't forget what I told you – we do all care about you." 

He rose and left the room. Penny touched her cheek and sighed. She had given Virgil a lecture about recognising emotions – maybe it was about time she got her own feelings sorted out. Why did these Tracy men all have to be so handsome, so charming – and so damn loveable?

The following morning Virgil and Amanda were waiting in the First-class lounge at the airport for their flight to be called. The lounge was next to what was obviously a staff room for the flight crews, as people in various uniforms were going in and out. One blond man in a blue-grey uniform with more than the usual amount of gold braid, came through the door. He saw Virgil and hesitated, then seeing he was with someone, gave a sketchy salute and continued on his way.

Amanda turned to Virgil. "Who was that?"

"Oh, just some business acquaintance" said Virgil. He had recognised Captain Hansen, but was relieved that the Fireflash captain had realised the need to be discreet.

Penny was doing some paperwork in her study when the door opened. She looked up. "What is it, Parker?"

Parker looked uncomfortable. "Mr Virgil left me some hinstructions habout 'is things."

"Yes, most are to be sent back to Tracy Island. Is there some problem?"

Parker looked at his feet. "There's this painting wot 'e told me to burn…." He looked up. "Hy think you should see it, m'lady."

Mystified, Penny followed Parker upstairs to the room Virgil had occupied. Propped against the wall was a canvas. Parker picked it up and turned it round. Penny gave a small cry, her hand going to her mouth. The picture was a street scene, showing buildings of ornate, Italianate style. But most of the buildings were damaged, the windows cracked or broken, and sections of the elaborate cornices lay strewn in the roadway. The focus of the picture was a small figure in blue, standing in the distance on a pile of rubble. But instead of the lines of perspective leading straight there, they were all jagged and distorted, which gave the feeling of viewing the scene through a broken pair of spectacles, or a very bad migraine.

Eventually, Penny spoke. "You're right, Parker. We can't possibly burn this. But we can't exactly display it either. Put it in one of the attics while I decide what to do with it." _'I might even show it to Jeff next time he's here'_ she thought. '_That poor boy…'_

Meanwhile, Virgil and Amanda had arrived at the rehab camp. The rest of the day was spent settling in. Virgil was assessed and given a programme of therapy. The couple ate that evening in the communal dining hall, where there was a wide range of ages, nationalities and abilities.

As soon as they were back in their cabin, Virgil put his arms around Amanda's waist and pulled her close, kissing her while his fingers stroked her back. 

"Are we going to have a performance of that symphony you promised me?" she murmured.

"Yes," he replied, kissing her again, "and the first movement is marked 'adagio'".

            -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	11. Finale & coda

Finale

Amanda rolled over in bed to see sunlight streaming in through the blinds. She looked round to see Virgil lying on his back, his hands behind his head, wearing a pensive expression. "Not more bad dreams, Poet?" she asked, concern in her voice.

He turned towards her, smiling. "No, you 'kissed me and stopped me from shaking' remember?" he replied, leaning over to kiss her lips. He leant back, "No, I was just looking at you and thinking I would like to wake up like this every morning for the rest of my life."

"Mr. Tracy!" she exclaimed, in her best 'Elizabeth Bennett' voice. "What an immoral suggestion!"

He smiled, "On the contrary, I would like to make a very moral suggestion. I want to ask you to marry me." She opened her mouth to reply, but he put his finger to her lips, forestalling her, and carried on. "But before I do, there is something I have to tell you. And before I can tell you, you have to promise that you will never tell another soul."

"How mysterious! OK, I promise. So, what is this great secret?"

He looked down, uncertain how to go on. "My family run – we are – the organisation you know as International Rescue. So you see, if you were to marry me, it would mean living on the island with us. Now, if you don't feel you could do that, we could still see each other. You could come and visit, or I could come and see you, but.." He suddenly looked up, taking in her expression. "You're not hearing a word of this, are you?"

Amanda realised her mouth had been hanging open, and closed it. "You're – you're one of the 'Thunderbird men'?" she said in a small voice, quoting the line from the pop song.

He nodded. "I fly Thunderbird 2, the transporter craft. OK, let's take this slowly. Do you want to marry me?"

"Of course I do" she replied, giving him a kiss.

"And would you mind living with us on the island?"

"I don't see why not. I'm a writer – I can write anywhere."

"And you wouldn't mind me rushing off on rescues? Maybe coming back injured?"

"Well, it can't be any worse than being married to a doctor or a fireman." She thought for a minute. "Do you often get injured?" She touched his leg through the sheets and looked at him. "Did this happen on a rescue?"  He nodded. "You don't have to tell  me if you don't want."

He shook his head, and put his arm around her. "No, It's all right. In fact it's quite a relief to be able to talk about it." His expression took on a faraway look as he thought back. "It happened in Florence, back in June. We had arrived about two hours after the earthquake." (Amanda gave a little gasp of recognition). "We had been working for about eight hours, had rescued several groups of people and were now on the mopping-up stage of the operation. Scott was checking a pile of rubble to see if it contained any survivors. He was wearing headphones to try and listen for signs of life. I had gone to collect some coffee for us both from a nearby mobile canteen. I was just on my way back when I felt a tremor under my feet – there are often small aftershocks like that after a big 'quake. I looked up to see the wall behind Scott start to crumble. I shouted to him, and started to run – and that's the last thing I remember."

"So that was your nightmare?"

"That was the first part, yes. Scott told me that I gave him a shove that sent him flying, then I got caught by the falling debris. I don't remember any of that, though. The next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room, desperately trying to find out what had happened to Scott, while being restrained by Italian medical staff who could barely understand what I was saying – I suppose I wasn't very coherent. That's the second nightmare." He gave her a hug. "But I'm over it now, thanks to you."

She looked at him. "I still find all this hard to believe. The hardest part is knowing I can't talk to anyone about it – not even Penny. Hang on a minute," she looked the expression on his face. "_Penny already knows,_ doesn't she? Come on, you've told me so much, tell me the rest. What's Penny's part in all this?"

"Penny's our London agent. Sometimes this just involves mundane matters like finding out information for us, or taking delivery of things we don't want to have connected to the Tracy business. Other times her activities are, well, let's just say 'more adventurous'. I'll let her fill in some of the details. She and Parker have been very useful to us over the years."

"Parker, too?" she exclaimed in amazement.

"Yes," and he laughed. "Next time you're on your own with him, ask him to tell you about the time he broke into the vault in the Bank of England for us!"

She put her arms around his neck. "Now, apart from belonging to the most secret organisation in the world, is there anything else you need to tell me?"

 "No, except that I'm glad things happened the way they did, because otherwise I'd never have met you." 

"Good," She kissed him again, seductively. "Then can I interest you in another symphony like the one we had last night?"

"I'm not sure I could manage a whole symphony before breakfast," he said, in a teasing tone, as his fingers played an arpeggio across her skin.. "Would you settle for a concerto?"

            -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coda

Times Literary Supplement :

 Book news

Author Annabelle Lee was in Hatchards, Piccadilly today to sign copies of her latest book, the first since her recent marriage. Set later than her normal period, _Brothers in arms_ tells the story of Marcus, a young World War II bomber pilot, who is injured rescuing his brother from a collapsing building in the London blitz. Severely traumatised, he is sent to the West Country to recuperate, and eventually regains his physical and mental health through the love and support of a young WAAF officer.

            -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note: the story of Virgil and Amanda will be continued in _Family ties_


End file.
